(Un)Worthy

Dark rings
Shut off irises
Of grey.

The sun
Who sees beauty
Calls them green.

Those golden rays
Find life
Where there is none.

Ashen hair
Pushes through and
Shows true colors.

The mountain
Who’s lived long
Calls it unique.

That steady rock
Sees youth
In redundancy.

 

12 Jan This entry was published on January 12, 2013 at 12:04 am. It’s filed under Uncategorized and tagged beauty, life, love, nature, poem, poetry, relationship. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.